


all of you, i will hold

by secretsarenotforfree



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, First Camping Trip As a Couple, Korra is buff and Asami loved it as much as I do, Soft Girlfriends, Spirit World, but in ruins of the empire they're sharing a room so it HAD to have happened before then, idfk if this is canon compliant because idk their first time, let me live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24622582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsarenotforfree/pseuds/secretsarenotforfree
Summary: “Only if you want to, but if you think I don’t...I do.” She feels brave for saying them, but at the same time it feels almost as if the words were pulled outward by some force greater than herself.(Korra means every word.)
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato, Past Mako/Asami, past korra/mako
Comments: 3
Kudos: 201





	all of you, i will hold

**Author's Note:**

> recently i watched atla and lok plus all the comics related to it in about a week and i'm obsessed? you could say. with atla and lok and all the world. this probably won't be the last fic i write for this couple but i will say that i started it at about one AM and by the time i was finished i was on page SIX somehow, so. take this off my hands!!
> 
> title from 'bones' by josh record!

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

A lot of things were, she felt, in her life. Tonraq and Senna being her parents being one of them. Korra didn’t know where she’d be without her father's hot temper running through her veins, her mother's deep empathy forming the walls of her heart. In a lot of ways, having Tenzin and Katara be two of her masters was one of them too. They knew, as few others did, how staggering a shadow Aang had left to her to live up to. Who better to help her than the people who were closest to the man behind the legend?

So that, was supposed to happen. Going through one of the most traumatic experiences of her life, no matter how it broke her down and built her back up, was necessary so she wouldn’t stay stuck in that dark place where fear and inadequacy clawed at the air in her throat and the strength in her soul. Breaking up with Mako was not only supposed to happen but _had_ to happen. Call it whatever you wanted - timing, maturity, compatibility - but they worked better as friends. As best friends who’d become family and who she could depend on, always, to have her back. Naga, her soulmate in a furry form whose winter storm scent and warmth would always ground her for years to come. That was definitely supposed to happen.

But that _feeling_.

The warmth, the sparks that rose in her core at the flash of impossibly silky hair. Of the curved caress of Asami’s voice saying her name, of the way that her gloved hand clasped in hers on the battlefield made Korra feel. These feelings, of course, hadn’t come initially. What had started as jealousy nearly as hot as the bursts she sent from her fists had turned, slowly, into tolerance. Then, maybe it wasn’t so bad that someone as fierce and brilliant as her was in Team Avatar. When friendship had turned into _this_ , this tugging in her heart and the dizzy happiness she got whenever she was just with Asami, or thinking about her, but here Korra was. Blushing, when Asami said that she liked her haircut. (She was the only person whose opinion she’d really cared about, anyway.)

Somewhere, along the line, Korra forgot to care about things there were supposed to happen. She was no longer interested in those. Instead, she wanted to focus on the things that just, _had_.

They’d gotten a late start, that first night in the Spirit World, and sooner than later Korra was setting alight a pile of thankfully spirit-less wood, the fire flowing from her fingers like second nature. Korra didn’t feel like she needed the tent that Asami had nonetheless brought, but she wasn’t going to say no to it by any stretch of the imagination. As far as Korra was concerned, whatever Asami wanted she could have. 

Asami, for her part, can’t help noticing Korra’s blue eyes on her. She’d never really been able not to of course, but something about it felt different when the background wasn’t over mission plans in an airship or backlit by yet another life threatening situation. Here, it was just the two of them, unbothered by the occasional spirit that floated at distances around her. The burgundy length of fabric she used to tie back the low ponytail she’d adopted in the three years Korra had been out of her life was neatly folded in her pack. Her hands brushed the kinks out of her locks, long and inky in the light. 

The distance between them closes in when Korra stops fiddling around their little camp and settles close to her, one powerful arm bracing the seat she'd adopted. Bright blue eyes, the first thing Asami had noticed when meeting the bender, just watch Asami for a second while the latter finishes her task, setting her comb down. Her jacket had long been slid from her shoulders, leaving the company owner in a pale undershirt and her tight flight pants. Korra, for her part, was free of the big boots she so often wore, and the furs she kept clasped around her waist. The dark grey arm braces she always had on stil encased muscled forearms and the majority of Korra’s stunning biceps. They shouldn’t be so attractive, those lengths of fabric, drawing Asami’s vibrant eyes to the lines that Korra’s arms cut, but they were.

“Asami?”

Korra’s voice, hesitant but determined, cut through Asami’s brief distraction, causing a tiny start before refocusing on the Avatar herself. “Yeah?”

“I want to do something.”

Well. Okay. Distantly, Asami wonders if this is one in a very small amount of times that Korra had asked permission of someone before doing something, but regardless. Why was she asking her? 

“Do something?”

Korra nibbles at the corner of her lip, eyes drifting down from Asami’s eyes before snapping back up, almost guiltily. “I don’t know why, but I wanted to warn you before I did it.”

Before Asami can properly ask what it was that she planned on doing, Korra came towards her, free hand first. The hand that had punched and bended her way out of fights more numerous to count with the fate of the universe at stake tangled its way into her raven curls like it knew exactly where to go. Asami Sato goes from being About to be kissed by the Avatar to Being kissed by the Avatar and for once, everything buzzing in her mind goes blank.

So _this_ was what it was like. Korra’s lips were firm and sensual against Asami’s own, questioning and as driven as the rest of her. If you thought about it, through Mako they’d sort of shared a kiss before, but it wasn’t even a ghost of this. Wasn’t a consequence. Held nothing to the way that even when she wasn’t in the Avatar State, all humming, shining energy and a majesty that Asami had and would never see before, Korra still tasted of power. Power and passion, and a boldness that grew with every moment Asami kissed her back, draped elegant arms around her neck and leaned enthusiastically in.

In all her lifetimes Korra couldn’t have dreamed of the way that this girl was going to taste against her tongue. Blackberries and present, reassuring heat with the distinct feeling that oh, so this is why if she’d been in Mako’s place she’d have wanted to be with Asami too. Nothing felt quite like this magic that it was to kiss her, this beautiful girl who broke their kiss to let out a little deeply satisfied sigh. Whose hair felt like heavy moonlight in her hands, whose chest brushed against her own while their kiss deepened.

It grows needier, entirely by accident but in a way neither of them can stop, and suddenly Asami is discovering that Korra’s hair is tangly and feather soft, dragging along her fingers at the nape of Korra’s neck. The pants she’d pulled on for countless days of her life proved rather unhelpful when the Avatar tugged rather insistently at the bell of her hips, the taller girl flowing into Korra’s lap like the water she’d bended first of all. Heat begins to build where Asami’s core rubs against Korra’s waist and a little whimper breaks through lips still stained with the remains of Asami’s patented dark lipstick. 

She should wait. God, she should wait, though it had been so long since Asami had been in a relationship. There had been a couple weak nights, when they all tried to find their footing in a suddenly, glaringly, Korra-less world when it became more clear that she’d be gone for more than just “ _a few weeks_ ” and she and Mako had found themselves in bed together. _That_ at least had never been hard for them, even way back when his eyes used to skirt hers, and worlds lay unsaid between them. Any feelings she and Mako had had were long in the past, but they understood each other, in those moments. They both missed Korra, and it was a way to try and distract each other, just for a little while, from the fact that there was a gaping hole in their lives. One that seemed to grow darker with every month that passed with Korra so far away and, in Mako and Bolin’s place, a lack of responses. It hadn’t meant anything. And at this point, it was two years in the past.

For Korra, it had been longer. Mako had been the last person she’d been with too, during the turbulent high and low that their relationship had been. Her directness to get to her goal, more often than not being to have way less clothing between them, had been pretty good. Not quite fantastic, all the time.

And this? This was worlds different. Every point they dragged against each other covered my fabric was an infuriating frustration, a sudden personal offense on Korra's part. The tiny part of her brain not concentrating on play biting Asami’s bottom lip and stroking down the line of Asami’s spine wishes she could _clothing_ bend, to get some sort of relief from the aching tightness that ran over her own body. Korra’s calloused hands are bold as they skate closer to the curve of Asami’s ass, bolder still when they find purchase. She fills her hands with the plush skin, so cruelly separated from her touch by the toughed yet high quality fabric of Asami’s pants, and pulls the other woman as close as she can. The Avatar is the first to moan, low and needy, when Asami pulls back to press her lips down the corded length of Korra’s throat.

“I want to do this with you.” Korra’s words whisper out in the air between them and cause Asami’s thighs to unconsciously tighten a bit, knowing what she was referencing. “Only if you want to, but if you think I don’t...I do.” She feels brave for saying them, but at the same time it feels almost as if the words were pulled outward by some force greater than herself.

(Korra means every word.)

Asami searches her heart for some sort of hesitation, some reason to hold off, and can’t find a single one. Can’t fathom why she shouldn’t do this, right here, right now, with the woman who so unquestionably held her heart. She somewhat reluctantly pulls back from where she’d been making her lips busy at the line of Korra’s collarbone, and frames her face in his hands. Sudden awareness of how stunning Korra is, inside and outside, flits through her mind, a near constant surprise despite the length of time they’d known each other, and her insides flash for a second between sexually frustrated to gooey until Korra’s thumbs brush against the inner sprawl of her thigh and there’s a rushing feeling between her legs and it reverts right back. 

Yes, they should absolutely do this. “Yes. I mean, me too. I want this. I want _you_ .” Asami tells her, green eyes soft and sharp at the same time, and it’s all the encouragement Korra needs before surging back up to press her mouth into hers. To say she melted wouldn’t be entirely accurate but some urgency certainly fuels the nimble way her inventor’s fingers work at getting under the envious tightness of Korra’s top. She needed it off like _yesterday_.

Somehow, they make it from the campfire to the tent, both of them loathe to break their contact with each other. “I’ve never done it like this.” Korra murmurs, feeding Asami deep, hungry kisses while one hand undoes the fabric clasp of Asami’s bandeau, having already made short work of Asami’s tank top. “Mako and I - we were too busy fighting to have it be....well. Anything close to how this feels.”

Asami hums in her throat, shrugging her shoulders easily for Korra to slip the straps over slender, ivory shoulders. Her hands work at the clasp of Korra’s pants, their feverish kisses only breaking for Korra to flex her powerful shoulders and draw her shirt over her head. “Somehow, I don’t think this will feel anything like that. I think it’ll be better.”

Words die out after that, as other things become much more important. Things like, the way it feels to have Asami’s waterfall of hair brush against Korra’s dark, naked skin while those curved lips press all over the heavy curve of her breast. Things like, even though it’s Asami that’s on top Korra still feels in control, proving how infuriatingly unfair it is that Avatar’s pick up on skills to easily when Korra’s fingers slip inside her. Things like, how when Korra crooks her finger just so it becomes harder to remember things like the fact that their first time is in the _Spirit World_ for Spiritsake, and she is no longer in control of the way her hips are moving. Things like, later there will be little red marks along the sculpted line of Korra’s shoulders where Asami’s nails had dug in, desperate for something, _any_ thing, to hold onto when she was losing her grasp on everything else.

The chuckle Korra lets out when Asami comes quietly on her fingertips with a little cry is nothing short of thoroughly pleased. “You’re beautiful.” She tells her, one finger pulling at Asami’s chin to kiss a mouth pliant from pleasure, and Asami falls for her all over again, even as she attempts to hide her own smile, spirally down from her peak in a light haze. Sometimes, she wonders if thats how bending feels, when they’re completely in her element. Watching Korra fight had always been nothing short of beautiful, the way she so flawlessly controlled near every element there was. Korra bending water? Amazing. Korra bending fire? Incredible. Korra bending air or earth? Made Asami forget other people had practiced the art before, it was so incredible. Metal, too. 

Korra, for her part, has decided that there were few things in this world more rewarding than seeing Asami Sato’s face when _that_ happened. The sight of it, the damn feel, it was a gift that Korra was over the moon to have been given, and to give. She’d led herself by her senses, by paying attention to how different things made Asami’s voice shake and her hips jerk, and they hadn’t steered her wrong. Of course, Korra had used the background of what she knew that she herself enjoyed in those quiet moments when her hand slipped beneath her furs and gave herself a little pleasure and peace, but still. She barely notices the texture of the blankets and furs beneath them both, but is grateful for the slants of moonlight that trickle in through the slats of the tent, lighting what their small lantern did not.

“So are you, Korra.” A private smile touches Asami’s lips, kissing Korra’s willing ones while her own hand sought to learn the inner workings of a new kind of project. 

Kissing the Avatar was life changing.

_Touching_ the Avatar? Seeing her eyebrows furrow, her chest rising and falling while she lost control of her breath? Finding out that she tasted like power everywhere too, that her knuckles made incredible fists in the heavy pelts when Asami flicked her tongue like that, that her thighs trembled when she pushes her fingers like this? 

She could never go back.

Unless they’re somewhere they’re not supposed to be, Korra’s never been the quietest person, and Asami figures it should only make sense that when she completely shakes apart against her mouth it wouldn’t be quiet either. Korra keens, a long, thrumming thing that loosens into a cry at the end of it, and something in Asami’s chest cracks open and warm.

(Oh, spirits. She can never go back.)

* * *

  
  
  


Afterwards, Korra’s hand falls in a loose curl against the pale plane of Asami’s chest, their contrast bright even now. They’re snug in only a couple layers despite the lack of what they had on underneath - for Korra, navy wrappings and a loose pair of cloth shorts. For Asami, a cream nightgown thats silken feeling against Korra’s darker skin was half from quality and half from wear. One of Asami’s arms wraps around Korra’s shoulders, the other busy running Korra’s light brown hair through her fingertips, root to tip. 

Korra doesn’t think she’s been more relaxed in her life, both pairs of eyes closed as they settle in the moment with each other, legs tangled and hearts full. 

“I think I’m going to be good at it.”

Asami’s raven brow quirked half heartedly, a repressed chuckle in her chest. “Good at what?”

Korra’s smile is lost, pressed against the other woman’s skin, but somehow, Asami can still feel it. “Being your girlfriend.”


End file.
